


Carpe Diem

by cats_cradle



Series: ThorinXDwalinXReader one-shots [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Love, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, respect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cats_cradle/pseuds/cats_cradle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot set in the Quid Pro Quo universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carpe Diem

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this one-shot. Let me know if you loved, liked or if you want to see more of these stories.

You picked up the shiny sword. Hefting it with both hands around the dragon’s tooth hilt.

You lowered it, the tip gently resting against the stone floor and inspected the top, or pommel as Dwalin had told you it was called. The flat metal was encrusted with four diamonds, surrounded by etched silver and perched in a carved diamond shape just below the curved tip of where the dragon’s tooth poked through.

You leant the sword away from you, following the hilt down to a large curve of metal protruding out and decorated with elvish runes. From there the blade melded out, arcing down beautifully and looking as though all of it was forged as one piece, so magnificent in its elegance.

So lethal in its use.

A sharp breath in and you pooled your strength, heaving the sword up two-handed. The sunlight streaming through the window gleamed off the blade, making it look like a lightsaber, it was so bright.

Your arms shook as the weight of this exquisite sword took its toll.

How Thorin wielded this weapon with such fatal finesse was beyond you.

You began lowering it and the clang of another blade almost made you drop it. The impact zinging down the sword and up your hands and arms, ending in rattling your teeth.

Dwalin stood before you, a thick hilted sword in his hand. It was straight, wide, forged by the dwarves of Ered Luin. His, although you knew it was heavier steel, seemed light as he swung it away and brought it back in a cross to your swing, that was accidental.

“You’ll not win that way, Lass,” he smirked and struck Orcrist half-heartedly, shooting more pain through you.

“I can’t hold this,” you whined, terrified you’d drop the sword and lose your toes or worse, damage it.

Dwalin nodded, but not at you, someone was behind you. Before you could turn your head, a naked chest pressed against your back, the fuzzy slide of hair over bulging pecs rubbed your bare shoulders. A hand slid up your wrist and folded over both of yours.

Dwalin pulled away, he was bare-chested like Thorin, his breeches loosely tied. Bringing the blade back for a strike, you braced. Thorin guided your movements as metal hit metal and they acted out their mock battle a thousand times slower than reality.

Thorin’s hand settled on your hip and without warning, he was controlling your movements. Turning this faux battle into a dance of swishing blades. He easily moved you to counter a blow, block an undercut, and halt a slash aimed towards your chest.

You couldn’t help the scream that broke free at that move, and cursed both dwarves for laughing at you.

Still, you didn’t stop them. You let them carry on. Feeling every tightening of Thorin’s hand over yours as he directed you somewhere new, his fingers pressing gently into you hip guiding your feet.

When they began getting faster, you tried to stop, but neither would let you. Thorin’s arm came around your waist and he was now focused on pulling you back or moving you forward. Your blade nearly sliced Dwalin’s ribs at one point and you screamed out, cursing them both for this.

The clang and ching of blades meeting, screeching slides and shooting sparks were making this fantasy too real.

Dwalin pulled back, raising his sword for a cleaving strike. You stilled, despite Thorin tightening his hand and arm, you could only stare at that flat, grey blade angled for your head. It would easily split your skull in two.

You were yanked back, your grip on Orcrist slacking. The sword clattering to the ground, its sharp tip scratching the stone before hitting hard.

Dwalin’s sword cleaved past you and cutting the air in front of your nose, could feel the breeze that blew across your eyes forcing you to close them.

You stood there shaking. Arms and hands dangling at your sides, knees trembling, bile swirling in your stomach your breathing shallow.

“Open your eyes, Sweetling?”

You couldn’t answer Thorin, body frigid with terror and dread, mouth dry, hands clammy.

“I didn’t mean to frighten her,” you wanted to reassure Dwalin, his voice pained and apologetic. You knew he wouldn’t have hurt you, but, you just couldn’t make your body respond.

“She’s frozen.”

You didn’t understand what Thorin meant by that, but you were being embraced by two warms bodies as hands smoothed over you.

Thorin ran his thumbs over your cheeks, his warm breath smelling of the bread you’d all eaten for breakfast and sweetened by the honeyed tea he favoured, softly floating over your lips.

“Sweetling, come back to us.”

Dwalin rubbed your back and shoulders, massaging gingerly, “She’ll come back, she will.”

His voice was thick with that emotion he rarely showed. Only once had you heard tears in Dwalin’s voice.

You mouth opened and you wheezed in loudly, eyes snapping wide as they rolled in your head, an animal caught in a trap.

“Hush, hush,” was breathed into your ear as both dwarves crushed you in their embrace. You didn’t know what had happened.

“You froze,” Dwalin began as you asked them.

“It’s not unusual,” Thorin hid his concerned face in your neck, but you could hear it in his voice. “I’ve seen the most hardened warrior do the same.”

“But… What… How…” your brain whizzed through many questions, and you spat sporadic words, making no sense.

“They freeze,” Dwalin pressed his cheek against yours, rubbing his bristles over your skin. “Panic, fear, who knows what it is that takes them. They freeze and on the battlefield…”

Dwalin didn’t finish as emotions from long-held memories likely clogged his voice.

Oh, God. How many friends, loved ones had they seen like this, with no time to help, having to watch them be brutally cut down by their enemies.

“I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t…”

Thorin was the one to cut you off with a kiss tasting of half-worry, half-panic. You knew he was not consoling you and you tipped your head back allowing him to deepen the kiss. Dwalin pecked at your shoulder, his fingers gripping your upper arms, squeezing tight.

Thorin ripped his mouth away, his eyes wild. Bringing his hands up he grabbed at the pale chemise you wore. You met his wide eyes; the dwarf lost to pain you could never imagine and poured all your compassion into your gaze.

He got the message, his hands fisting in the material yanking apart, ripping your under-dress open with one mighty heave, splitting it down to your navel.

He fell to his knees and finished his work on the garment, grabbing at one leg behind your knee, he threw it over his shoulder. Dwalin caught hold of you, keeping you balanced as you leant against his chest. His hands sliding around fondling your breasts.

Thorin dived between your splayed legs his tongue and lips finding you easily. His mouth aggressive, nipping and suckling, scraping his teeth over your nub, abrading his thick whiskers over your inner thighs.

Dwalin found your swelling nipples and rolled them between thumb and forefinger, pulling them out as far as they would go before letting them spring back. He squeezed, rubbed, and pinched. His hands swallowing your breasts as he pawed them roughly. Course hands rubbing sensitive skin.

You could do nothing but lay limply against your lover, Thorin noisily eating you, Dwalin teasing you silently. They were a contrast that was sending conflicting information to your brain, you couldn’t tell if this was pleasure or pain.

Your body made up your mind for you as release shot up your spine and out your mouth in a shattering scream. Muscles tightening, your leg still slung over Thorin’s shoulder, cramped.

You tried to grab your thigh, nonsense pouring out your mouth. You attempted yanking back, but neither dwarf moved. You ground your teeth, bit into your bottom lip and willed away the pain. You didn’t have the restraint to call an end to this. These were your lovers. These were dwarves much older than you, with experiences that paled yours into shadow even considering your journey to Erebor and the brutal aftermath.

If you could, you would suck every ounce of pain from them, take it as your own and cherish it no matter the cost to your soul.

Despondency rose in you, knowing you could never do enough to heal them. Rage following closely, you turned your head, your hand snatching a bushy sideburn directing Dwalin’s mouth down to yours. You bit savagely at his bottom lip, feeling his answering desire in the thrust against your rear, the incremental tightening of his hands.

You bent your other knee low enough that you could reach between your legs and grab Thorin’s hair pushing his head deeper into you, sliding your hips over his greedy mouth. His tongue stabbing you, drawing out your juices. Drinking you in harsh gulps and steamy breaths. His aquiline nose nuzzling your bud, careening desire, want and lust through your body.

Between them, they set a fire low in your belly and fanned the flames. The moistness of Dwalin’s mouth, the taste of him, fresh grass and sweet tea. You loved the quandary of this dwarf, never being, tasting, speaking as one would judge him to be.

The nights this dwarf read poetry to you were your sweetest secrets, curled in his arms, legs jumbled together, smoothing your cheek over the smattering of wiry hair on his chest. The memories urged you deeper into his kiss, dominating his mouth.

Your fingers grasped at the fine locks below, running through the thick hair, feeling the natural curve and bumps of Thorin’s skull.

This dwarf sang to you. His baritone voice a balm on stormy nights. You hated thunder and found yourself relishing every storm. He would lay his body over you, a shield against the ravages of nature. He would hold your gaze and sing you melodious songs of times gone by, of lovers doomed, of mothers hushing babes in their arms.

Flames licked higher, engulfing your heart, searing your love to loftier heights. You wanted to give them everything, let them take it all and demand more.

“Inside me,” you wailed, “I want you both inside me.”

Dwalin’s hand slid down one cheek of your rear, sliding between and replacing Thorin’s tongue. His finger plunged in and he pulled it back wet with your essence, swirling it around that forbidden entrance.

“Here?”

You nodded, a pinch of your ass, a silent command, “Yes,” you cried, “I want you there.”

Thorin had been the only one to take you there, you’d tried with Dwalin before, but his girth scared you too much to relax enough. This time, though, you needed him there.

“You’ll take me?”

You could hear the eagerness in his voice and refused to deny him.

“Yes, I don’t care what it takes, I’ll take you.”

“Shhh,” he soothed, “I’ll not hurt you, Darling.”

Thorin was placing slow kisses up your mound onto your belly. He loved the little curve of it, hated when you were too thin, but this plumpness you now had was an aphrodisiac to the dwarf.

He paused only to look into your eyes, seeking your truth. “I want this,” you beseeched, “I need this.”

His tongue swiped over your belly button, but his eyes dissected you. He searched for motive and reason, and if you could find the words you would tell him, but right now you wanted actions to speak everything you couldn’t.

“She want’s it.” He murmured, busying himself mouthing your flushed skin and the small white scar from having your appendix removed.

Dwalin nuzzled your ear, “Lass, only take as much as you want.”

You’d take all of him, that’s what you wanted, you nodded anyway allaying his concern.

Dwalin moved away returning to you with that familiar glass jar and it’s pearlescent cream, dipping in he scooped the cream and settled at your puckered entrance, the cold tingle began the moment he pushed his finger inside.

He didn’t go far before drawing back out. Kneeling, scraping his teeth over one fleshy cheek, admiring words spilling from him. He nudged in again and this time, you shifted your hips back.

Thorin traced his thumbs over your belly, lathing his tongue over your skin. Every kiss, nip and suck a distraction from what was happening behind. “Beautiful,” he praised, his head even with your breasts, tilting up, he mouthed one nipple, flicking it with his tongue, grasping it between his lips and sucking roughly. Stretching your nipple as far as it could go, that eek of pain enough to transmute to pleasure. Your hips began thrusting, instinct taking over.

“Gently, Darling,” he cautioned you, his finger spreading more of that cream inside you, those tingles running over your nerves setting another fire inside you.

He pulled out and you waited balanced on a knife’s edge. Thorin loving your breasts, his finger at your nub, rubbing little circles around it, never giving you true relief.

Dwalin’s hand returned to you, you smiled, delirium needling through you. You gasped.

“Easy,” Dwalin gentled, “Easy.”

Thorin slowed his movements, you clasped your eyes shut, breathing deep, feeling two fingers breach you this time.

The fullness inside you created the strangest of aches. Emptiness crashed through you and you pushed back, despite the sting, despite the rawness of your nerves, you could feel him deep inside and needed more, needed to take him.

He stopped, resting against that tight ring of muscle and you knew he would go no further. Gradually you began a rhythm, sliding back on his fingers, pulling forward, back again. Each slow thrust making your body accommodate him. The muscle relaxing until you knew you could slide down and feel him slip through. When you managed it, Dwalin’s hand stilled your hips, bent you forward and he began his own rhythm.

He leant into you, that muscular chest pressing on your back, his strong hand flexing tenderly on your hip, his fingers bringing that ache into sharp focus.

“Now,” you begged.

Thorin nodded, his eyes directed over your shoulder. Dwalin’s fingers came free with a squishy pop, and you could feel him move away from you. Thorin leant back powerful thigh muscles bunching, hands going to those thin ties loosely keeping his tight breeches up.

Behind you was the sound of clothing being removed and dropped carelessly on the floor. Thorin shifted, sitting now, rolling those breeches down his legs, casting them away.

“Mount me,” was Thorin’s quiet command and you saddled him, bringing your centre to his long shaft, the reddened head already weeping for you.

You wanted to impale yourself on him, but that was too quick. Arming yourself with infinite patience you lowered yourself, gradually, feeling him pierce you. A slow, gentle slide, eyes growing round, mouth open, breathing deep. He parted your folds and you settled on him, loving the snug fit, keeping your movements slow.

Thorin gave an experimental thrust and your head fell back eyeing the ceiling, torrents of bliss swarming through you.

A hand guided you down, breasts pressing against Thorin’s muscular tummy, that fuzzy trail of hair scratching at your boobs.

Dwalin’s thighs rested against yours, his hands taking a cheek each and spreading you. His cock resting against your secret entrance generously covered in Óin’s Óin-tment. He began to part you.

Your hands slid from Thorin’s shoulders to his chest, pressing your palms flat, until you had to grasp flesh, focusing on the little half moons you made in the skin you could see.

“Relax,” Dwalin panted, “Tell me when?”

“Deeper,” you begged, but there was that sprig of uncertainty in your tone.

“Lass…”

“Please, just a little more.”

Thorin pressed hot kisses to your temple, your cheeks, his hand under your chin, angling your face.

He was nearly there, you grimaced, blowing out your breath, feeling as though there wasn’t room for air and Dwalin in your body at the same time.

His angle was perfect, and as he met that ring of resistance you flooded your body with the command to relax. You’d been given plenty of practice doing that.

His wide girth registered then, and you thought for a moment you couldn’t do this. You snapped open your eyes, ready to ask Dwalin to stop and gazed at Thorin.

You remembered why this was so important to you. Really, it wasn’t about sexual gratification, or their shared memories of pain, it was about trust.

It was about giving your trust to them and they holding it sacred, like they held your heart. In turn, they could give everything to you knowing you would reverently, selfishly ensconce it in your soul. Coveting it like your own Arkenstone.

Dwalin yelled out as he breached that resistance, his hands snapping to your waist, fingers digging in. You took the burn, made it yours and serenity flowed through you.

It was uncomfortable, you were stretched wide, but it was so damn amazing.

They each took hold of your body and after taking a few deep breaths, you nodded to them.

They knew how you liked it. Feeling muscles from arm, legs, belly and chests flexing, they moved slowly. There was no rush as each felt the other through your thin walls. Keeping those perfect angles, silently communicating to each other when you were ready for more.

You couldn’t hold your body up, so they did it for you. Those minor tremolo orgasms started up. Each smashing into the other, intensity building, layering upon the last.

Sweat poured from you, from them, your bodies damp, the aroma intoxicating. Leather, sandalwood, burning candles, fresh heather that adorned the walls.

You could hear every gasp, every slide in and tug out.

Feel every hard ridge of their cocks, each nerve scraped, your twin centres scoured.

It built, higher, greater, cresting that meridian that left mortal flesh behind as three souls merged into one. Rainbows of colour danced across your eyes dazzling you, explosions of sound, scent, touch invaded you.

You bowed your head, laying against flexing hot skin and screamed. It urged them on and you ascended, rising over the edge of this world. Seeing suns, moons, stars, galaxies as you swirled beyond everything.

You saw futures and possibilities, roads you could take or pass by. Eyes, you saw eyes, one set sky blue, the other cobalt, and you knew…

Everything was a cascade of light, sound, touch and taste, roars deafened you, blood pumping through your ears, your heartbeat loudly thumping in your chest, mingling with the dual heartbeats vibrating against your breast and back.

You were a tangled mess, Dwalin heavy on your back as Thorin taking your combined weight. With little grace, he rolled you both over and off him, you keened at the cold stone uncomfortable against your hot skin.

Dwalin and Thorin did nothing to help you, they were both panting wrecks, both looking sated and scrambled. Neither able to move, all of you laying there like limp noodles.

“I’m dead,” Dwalin griped, “I can’t feel anything below my neck.”

“You’re not the only one,” you added, mutinously staring at your hand that wouldn’t lift up and brush hair out of your eyes.

“Thorin?” you both asked together.

Well, at least he could move as he waved a limp hand at you. It meant he was alive, and any more than that you weren’t really concerned with. Tiredness was creeping up, you knew you should all move, but, to hell with it.

Sleep beckoned, and while you drifted into dreams for a moment, you remembered that one vision. Those eyes, those tiny eyes that stared from little faces.


End file.
